


The One Where Hunnigan Can't Hold Her Liquor and Leon Has A Dick Piercing

by veesexyleon



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: Drinking, First Dates, Fluff and Crack, Friendship, Gen, Implied Sexual Content, hunnigan can't handle her liquor, leon has a dick piercing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:21:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24485764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veesexyleon/pseuds/veesexyleon
Summary: Leon and Hunnigan end up on a date together. Let's just say they don't go out again.
Relationships: Ingrid Hunnigan & Leon S. Kennedy, Ingrid Hunnigan/Leon S. Kennedy
Comments: 3
Kudos: 12





	The One Where Hunnigan Can't Hold Her Liquor and Leon Has A Dick Piercing

**“You’re joking, right?”**

“Hunnigan, can you keep your voice dow—“

“Really?! A dick piercing?!”

A couple of heads turn at that, glaring their way. It doesn’t help that they’re sitting in the middle of a crowded dining room. _God, of all the things that could happen._

Leon covers his face with his hand, half in embarrassment, half in exasperation. He finally asked Ingrid Hunnigan out, and it’s fair to say things weren’t going as planned. 

“I think you’ve had enough to drink,” _More than enough,_ he thinks to himself. Looking up at the woman in front of him, he realizes just how far gone she really is.

Ingrid Hunnigan, his knight in shining armor. Without her, he would no doubt have died already. It had been a few years since Spain, and they had run plenty of missions together. They were a team so to speak, and yet he hardly ever talked to her outside of work. She was pretty, he had said this from the start, and relatively normal. It was attractive. On an off chance, he ran into her on the way from a meeting. In-person. No gadgets, no mission, nothing in the way. He asked her out right then and here they were. What a mistake.

“I can’t believe,” she laughs boisterously, to many glances from angry diners, “After all this time?!” Her hair is down and her glasses are off. He might’ve thought it was pretty if she wasn’t screaming his business to the whole world. “I didn’t know! Does anyone know?” she’s leaning over the table towards him, lowering her voice conspiratorially. _This is not good._

Ingrid’s eyes are blown, her face is red, and she’s swinging her third cocktail around haphazardously. She’s drunk. _How do you reason with a drunk person, especially a drunk COWORKER you’ve asked out._

“I’ll tell you if you keep it down,” Leon practically begs. They’re in his favorite steakhouse. The owners know him for Pete’s sake. Their waiter has become a friend of his. _Fuck, everyone is staring._ He looks up as their waiter passes by, who promptly scurries away when he sees Leon’s pleading look. 

_Thanks, Francis._

“Oooh yes, okay, of course,” Ingrid seems positively delighted. She straightens up, adjusting her blouse and hair as if that’s going to make her any less loud or drunk. Leon can’t help but frown as he watches her take another swig of whatever it was she ordered. She looks practically giddy and feverish, very different than the calm, collected woman that helps him on missions. 

_Note to self: Hunnigan can’t handle her liquor._

Leon sighs. This all started the moment they sat down. 

.....

..

.

They left The White House around six, catching a cab to the steakhouse and chatting the whole time. Leon was super delighted that Hunnigan agreed to come with him. Hunnigan seemed happy as well. _A good sign,_ he’d thought.

Leon had called ahead so they didn’t have to wait for seating, which was lucky cause the place was packed. They were seated at a table in the middle of the dining room, with all the booths and tables occupied around them. Everyone was chattering and the clink of silverware filled the room. Leon pulled Hunnigan’s seat out and offered to take her jacket, before taking off his own and sitting down. 

“So do you take all your lady friends out to eat here?” She asked coyly as he took his seat. _Well, that was flirtatious._ It catches him off guard.

“What do you mean?” he responded, genuinely confused. It was his favorite spot, not that he really got to share it with anyone. He’d come with Claire and Ashley a few times, but that was pretty much it. 

“Well, your expense reports indicate you come here quite often. I’m sure you don’t eat in fancy steak places all by yourself,” she replied, leaning on her hand. _Her eyes are really pretty,_ he thought to himself. He likes seeing her face.

Before Leon could respond to her words, they’re interrupted by Francis, a college student who pays his way through school by waiting tables. He’s a poli-sci major, _just like everyone else in this city._ Regardless, Leon likes the kid and enjoys his company. Sometimes Francis will stay after his shift to sit with Leon while he eats, asking him questions about day to day life with the president. Leon doesn’t mind. He enjoys the company. 

“Hey Frank, I’ll take a scotch and the usual,” he gives Francis a smile before turning towards Hunnigan expectantly. “What would you like?” he offers. Francis is poised to take her order. 

Hunnigan takes a moment to inspect the drink menu. “I think I’ll have whatever this is,” she points to the menu, showing Francis who nods knowingly. 

“Do you know what you’d like for dinner?” he asks, “Mr. Kennedy is a big fan of our T-Bone Steak, but we offer a large selection of other dishes as well. Tonight we are running a shrimp and lobster special, it—“

“I’ll take that, thanks.”

_Huh. That was fast._

“Thanks, buddy,” Leon nods as the kid takes their menus and walks away. 

“You seem to know each other,” Hunnigan comments. 

“Yeah, he’s a college student here in D.C. He— Wait, I don’t put my dinners on the expense report. How would you know how much I come here?” Leon had all but forgotten their conversation. He thinks back to the last time he came. He was alone. Did someone follow him? He doesn’t think so. Before he can think too much about it, Hunnigan answers.

“Oh, it’s not in your work expenses. Obviously, it’s your personal account,” she waves her hand dismissively. 

Leon sputters, “MY WHAT.” 

“You think the government doesn’t know what you spend your taxes on? I’m in charge of knowing everything there is to know about all our special agents, you included,” She shrugs as if it’s no big deal. 

“Ok...” Leon feels a bit awkward, but what can he say. He should have known his employers kept such strenuous records of him; what he does in his free time, what he spends his money on. It’s annoying, but not surprising after the initial shock. 

He shakes the thought from his head. He’s not at work. He’s out with a friend, maybe more than a friend. He should be paying more attention to her. 

“Hence the lady friends comment,” he finds himself laughing. “Nah, I like to come here on Fridays. The owners are great and the food is better.” He unconsciously flips his hair away from his face. Hunnigan giggles.

“What?” He asks. 

“It’s nothing, it’s just that,” she giggles again, “it’s just that I’ve never seen a full-grown man do that. A hair flip I mean.” She’s still chortling when Francis comes back to set down their drinks and some bread. 

Leon rolls his eyes, but can’t help but smile. _It’s always the hair,_ he thinks to himself. 

“I don’t think it’s fair you get to know everything about me, and I don’t know anything about you,” he leans on his hands towards her. She blushes. It’s cute. 

“Ah well, uhm,” she takes a sip. _no that’s definitely more of a swig and a deep one at that,_ of her drink. “Well as you know, I work for the government.”

“Uh-huh,” he says half encouragingly, half sarcastically. _Tell me something I don’t know._

“Well yeah, it’s my job to keep _you_ out of trouble. And to know anything and everything that’s going on in the world, our office, and with our employees.” She takes another swig, almost as if she’s offended. She seems shy. It’s endearing. 

“I know that, Ingrid,” he uses her first name for probably the first time ever, “Tell me what you’re like _outside_ of DC.” 

She looks kinda pale, and drinks the last of whatever it was in her glass. _Huh, is she a drinker?_ Leon hasn’t even touched his scotch. 

“Uh, do you think you should be drinking that fast?” Leon says, half-jokingly. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t concerned. _Nerves maybe? But it’s me. Why would she be nervous?_ He passes her the basket of bread. “Here, eat.” He grabs a piece himself, rips it in half, and dunks it in the small cup of butter that’s somehow meant to supply the whole table. She follows his lead.

“I haven’t been out for a while so this is nice,” she says, taking a knife and spreading the butter on her bread instead. He nods knowingly, chewing his food. _It is nice to have company._

Francis comes around to check on them and asks Hunnigan if she’d like another drink. She accepts. He bows in acknowledgment and informs them their food should be out shortly. It’s just enough to relieve the awkwardness between them.

“So, uh Leon. What do _you_ do outside of work?” She brushes a strand of hair away from her face. She looks different when it’s down, not better or worse, just different. 

Leon laughs again. “Turning the tables so quickly? I asked you first! But I guess, I don’t do much. You should know from my “”expense report.”” He makes little air quotations and gives her a sly smirk.

She bursts out laughing. A couple of people turn to stare then go back to their meals. Leon relaxes a little. He hopes she’s finally enjoying herself. 

It goes on like this for the next half hour or so; Leon making stupid jokes and Hunnigan laughing a little too loud at them. At first he doesn’t really notice, but as they keep talking, she keeps drinking, and her laughter growing with each sip.

It’s very obvious by the time their food comes, she’s drunk. 

Francis gives Leon a worried look as he’s setting their food down. Leon gives him a face that says _don’t worry about it_.

And worry he should. 

It’s just after their plates are set that she downs her second drink. Before Leon can stop her, she’s ordering a third. Things change pretty dramatically after that. 

But, Hunnigan is talking more openly now, and she seems more relaxed, so that’s nice. She mostly talks about work, how everyone is incompetent and she’s the only one who does her job right. She vents about her budget and the suits breathing down her neck, the long hours and little free time, the strain that’s put on her when she doesn’t know what’s happening in the field. 

“When _you_ disappeared in Spain?! I just about had a heart attack!” Leon notices she’s talking with her hands. They wave around flamboyantly as she tells her stories. 

“I was lucky to have you,” he responds truthfully. 

“But you haven’t had me _yet,_ have you L _eeeeoo_ n.” 

_What._

Before he can protest, she reaches over the table to walk her fingers up his arm, knocking the pepper over accidentally. He’s sure she’s trying to be flirtatious, but he can’t take her seriously, not this way. She’s giving him a weird face and he squints to understand it. Foggy, half-lidded eyes, a slanted pout... _oh god is this supposed to be seductive?_

And that’s when it happens.

“So tell me about your tattoo,” she asks nonchalantly, a definite slur in her voice. 

“What tattoo?” he responds hesitantly. He doesn’t have any, but she can’t possibly know about _that._ He refuses to let this conversation go there. 

“The one you got last year. I saw it in your e—“

“My expense report,” Leon finishes in annoyance. Of course, she did.

“You went to a tattoo and piercing shop and spent eighty dollars,” she recites, a pointer finger in the air, “You must have gotten something,” she practically coos, taking another fucking drink. 

_Dammit, Hunnigan._

He stares at her blankly. “I don’t have tattoos. You should know this.” 

“Ooooh, but I don’t,” she’s leaning over her food to get closer to him, her hair falling into it. 

“I don’t have tattoos,” Leon repeats flatly, deeply annoyed. He takes another bite of his steak, which is almost gone. He had been eating while she had been talking. Needless to say, her plate was almost completely full. 

“Well, it was a tattoo AND piercing shop. So where is it?” If she leans over the table any farther, she’ll be laying on top of it. 

“Where is what, Ingrid,” it comes out as an exasperated sigh. Leon tries not to lose his patience, but he’s uncomfortable to say the least. 

“Your piercing.”

_Of course._

He stops dead and closes his eyes, setting his silverware down. He knows what’s coming.

“Oh, so you _do_ have one,” Hunnigan’s eyes are alight with mischief, “I can read you like a book.”

“Ingrid—“ 

“So where is it? It’s not on your face,” the way she ponders is absolutely devious. “It can’t be your nipples either cause we have scans of your body...Not to mention your shirts are so tight it would be impossible to hide something like that,” she’s staring at him thoughtfully. 

It’s Leon’s turn to be embarrassed. “You. What? My shirts aren’t tight.”

“Yes they are,” she responds dismissively, “So if your torso isn’t pierced… No, you have to be kidding me,” her mouth opens wide in delight. 

_Shit._

_“_ Ingrid please, can you-“

“It’s on your dick!” She blurts out, loudly, in the middle of the dining room. Where everyone can hear them. Even Francis, who turns suddenly in their direction. _Everyone_ is staring at them. 

_Fucking perfect._

Leon wants to die. He opens his mouth to say something but closes it again. He’s grateful for his stupid choppy haircut. At least it can hide his face. 

.  
..

.....

“You’re JOKING right?” 

“Hunnigan, can you keep your voice dow—“

“Really?! A dick piercing?!”

_Please for the love of FUCK._

“I’ll tell you if you keep it down,” Leon reaches out for her hands and looks her in the eyes, “ _Please._ ” His voice is pleading. Most everyone has stopped staring by now, but no doubt their ears are perked. 

It takes a couple of minutes for Hunnigan to stop giggling. She takes a tie from her wrist and pulls her hair back. She looks more like Hunnigan now. 

She finishes her drink. 

“No more,” Leon says, taking her cocktail glass and passing her a glass of water that had been poured by their hostess, and left to melt on the table. 

“LeeeOOON,” she whines, reminding him of someone else who frequently does the same thing. He winces at the thought. 

“You told me you would tell me your dirty little secret!” She’s pouting now, and he hates the way she’s wiggling in her seat, like an antsy child or a puppy waiting for a treat. 

“Okay,” he grits his teeth, the annoyance about to burst from his chest. “Will you _calm down_ already.” _Think about your training. You have the patience of a saint, Leon. There are worse things that could be happening. She could try to pull down your pants right here--_

_Yeah, this isn’t helping._

Leon resigns himself. It’s not exactly a secret anymore anyways, and it’s not like he still has the damn thing. 

“Needless to say, this stays between us..” He starts. She nods adamantly and he takes a deep breath. “I got it... for a girl I--” he hesitates, “was seeing,” he finishes lamely. 

It must have been the way he said it because Hunnigan is glaring at him. Her next words make his heart drop.

“ _Was_ seeing or are _currently_ seeing?”

_This is not good._

“It’s complicated?” he offers sheepishly. He knows it’s the wrong thing to say. 

“You’re a bastard.”

He’s not surprised to see Hunnigan stands up, wobbling a bit in her Mary Janes. He goes to help her, but she pulls away, grabbing her purse and jacket, and with a huff, stumbles towards the door.

It’s safe to say the _whole_ dining room has their attention. _I can’t believe they all think I’m a cheating sex deviant,_ Leon thinks ruefully. Still, he can’t exactly leave Hunnigan like this. He flags down Francis and hands him $250 cash. “Keep the change,” is all he says before running after her.

It’s chilly outside, even for D.C. He’s wearing his leather jacket again so it doesn’t really bother him, but _where the hell is Hunnigan_. He doesn’t know what’s worse: the thought of her getting into a stranger’s car or walking the streets by herself. It’s not exactly safe either way, and she’s drunk. He curses under his breath. 

He’s worried. She couldn’t have gone far unless she got into a car. It’s not exactly late, so he wouldn’t be surprised if she hailed a cab. He opens his phone to call her before he realizes he only has her work phone, not her cell. He decides to call the number he has anyways. Before the line can finish ringing, someone retches in the alley beside him and he takes off running. 

——-

Hunnigan wakes with a start. _Too quick._ Her head is spinning. She frantically reaches for the water bottle that’s sitting beside her on the bedside table, ripping the cap off and inhaling it like a starved animal. It takes her a moment to realize this isn’t her water or her bedside table or her bed. 

_Oh god. What have I done?_

For the first time, she looks around. She’s in the “bedroom” of an open floor apartment. The King-sized bed she’s been laying on takes up most of the corner it’s in, and in front of her, past two small barriers framing the room, lays Leon on a couch in what must be “the living room.”

She blanches. _Oh god, please don’t tell me—_ She looks down at herself. These clothes are definitely not hers. She remembers leaving the office in a business skirt and blazer, not an oversized undershirt and boxers. _Please, fuck Ingrid, what have you done._

She takes a breath, or six. Deep ins and outs. _Think, Ingrid. Why would he be sleeping on the couch if you slept with him? What do you remember from last night?_

And with horror, it all comes back to her— at least, most of it anyways. Leon asking her out, going to dinner, _oh god,_ drinking way too much, leaving the restaurant, and from there it gets hazy. _Did she throw up in an alleyway? Did Leon carry her here?_ She doesn’t quite remember. She has a couple of flashbacks: leaning over a toilet, someone caressing her back and holding her hair, clinging to someone as they put her to bed. _Was that Leon? Were we here?_

“God, I’m such an idiot. This was way worse than just saying no,” she says to herself, rubbing her temples. She’s dizzy and annoyed and dehydrated, and completely and utterly embarrassed.

“Oh god,” she groans, hiding her face in her hands, opening her fingers to peek out at the man who nursed her while she was drunk. He’s passed out cold, one arm hanging over the ledge of the couch, the other one haphazardly tucked under his head. A small blanket, not large enough to completely cover his body, lays on top of him. There’s a pillow crushed under him, but it’s not doing much good considering he isn’t using it the right way.

_He sleeps with his mouth open,_ Hunnigan notes, and she can’t help but smile. _He’s cute, handsome, gorgeous actually, and he’s kind, bu—_

Leon snorts and rolls over, breaking her reverie. He’s still fast asleep when she finally grows the nerve to approach him. 

“Leon,” she whispers. It’s raspy and her throat is dry. “Leon,” she says a little louder, gently poking his shoulder ( _wow his arms are really big)_ to wake him. He stirs a bit, but makes no move to get up. 

“Leon!” Hunnigan says it a lot louder than she means to and finds herself face to face with a knife for her endeavor. It takes Leon half a second to recognize who she is and put his weapon away. Her heart pounds in her chest and for a moment her head doesn’t hurt. _That’s why they say not to wake sleeping lions._

“Sorry,” is all he says before collapsing upright into the couch. He looks exhausted. She stands, watching him as he blinks blearily and starts to wake up. Eventually he rubs his eyes with his hand and shakes his head, his hair sticking up at odd ends. He finally sits up. 

“How are you feeling?” It doesn’t come out mean, but she can’t help but think he must be mad at her. She winces, remembering how she acted the night before.

“How are _you_?” She deflects, wrapping her arms around herself. She isn’t good at opening up to people, and even worse at apologizing. 

“Could be better,” is his reply. He’s looking up at her expectantly. _Shit, how do I say this.._

“Look, Leon—“ she starts, but he cuts her off.

“Don’t worry about it,” he waves his hand dismissively and stretches, “I just hope you’re feeling better.” 

She can see the muscle under his shirt. _Stop getting distracted,_ she reminds herself. 

“No. I have to apologize and I have to tell you the truth.” _Firm. That’s a good start._

He looks up at her quizzically, and _damn maybe if he wasn’t such a forgiving moron this would be easier._

“Look, Leon. I admire you and I appreciate you asking me out to dinner, but I don’t see you that way. You’re a great guy, don’t get me wrong, but you’re not my type and I would prefer not to mix my romantic life and my professional life,” she pauses, taking a peek at his face to gauge a reaction.

He nods understandingly and _god, why are you taking this SO WELL._ It almost makes her as mad at him as she is at herself. 

“That being said... I’m sorry I got drunk last night. I didn’t know how to reject you, you are a top agent after all, and I handled it poorly by drinking too much,” she didn’t realize she was holding her breath until she was done speaking. There was another pause. 

“Did we—?” It’s an unspoken question.

Leon chuckles. “No, we didn’t. Do you remember everything?” He looks up at her.

“Not exactly. I remember the restaurant, I remember going outside. From there is gets hazy,” she sighs, resigning herself to sit on the couch next to Leon. Her head is still pounding and she’s both hungry and nauseous. 

“Well,” she hears his voice, not looking at him as he talks. “You left the restaurant and I went looking for you. By the time I found you, you had already thrown up a couple of times and could barely walk. I hope you don’t mind, but I carried you here.” She can tell he’s gesturing at his apartment. “The steakhouse is only a couple of blocks away, there’s no need to call a cab,” she heard him sigh before continuing, “You were pretty sick and I had to help you for a while. You threw up on yourself so I gave you some clothes to borrow,” Hunnigan cringes at the thought. _Oh no, did I throw up on him too? “—_ I didn’t look or touch you, you figured it out all by yourself,” his words are hasty. 

Hunnigan is relieved and embarrassed, but he’s not done speaking so she lets him finish. 

“Uh, it took a while to get you into bed. You kept trying to come... _see me,”_ he coughs awkwardly and she cringes again, her face heating up. “I had to bring you back each time,” _oh god, it happened more than once,_ “But, you fell asleep eventually, and I slept over here.” She feels him pat the couch and dies inside.

“I tried to.. see you,” Hunnigan repeats, staring off into the distance. She’s mortified. Absolutely and completely mortified. 

“Don’t worry about it. Nothing happened. I’m just happy you’re feeling better.” His reassurance doesn’t help at all. 

She can’t find the words to express what she’s feeling. She’s frustrated with herself; ashamed and guilty and completely perturbed by Leon’s complete acceptance of the situation. _Why did I let this happen?_

She frowns, “Why are you so forgiving? If it were me, I would have already kicked you out and asked to be reassigned to someone else.” Her tone is bitter.

“I would never do that,” he says. She finally looks up at him. He’s looking the other way. “We’ve all been there. I should have been more aware before asking you out. I wouldn’t blame you for asking to be reassigned from me,” he turns to her then, and she’s absolutely floored by his understanding. 

It takes her a moment to regain her composure. “No,” she sighs, “It’s my fault for not being honest with you in the first place, and none of my behavior is excusable. I’m sorry for everything and I’m thankful you took care of me.” If she’s being honest with herself, she’s holding back the urge to cry. 

“It wouldn’t have worked out anyways,” Leon leans back against the couch, folding his arms over his chest, “You would have been all over me. I can’t go on missions like that,” he gives her a teasing smirk and her mouth falls open in shock. It’s enough to make her forget how upset she is, and she’s grateful. 

“Leon!” She smacks his arm in mock anger and he laughs, shielding himself from her wrath. “We wouldn’t have worked out because you’re an IDIOT,” she grabs the pillow he’s sitting on and hits him with it. They’re both laughing now. 

“Not to mention you have a girlfriend,” her voice is chiding, but she’s curious. She’s never seen him with anyone, and doubts he’d be with someone long term. She’s always figured him to be a bit of a playboy. 

“Yeah, I guess.” He’s stopped laughing. It bothers her. 

“What do you _mean_ you _guess? You got a dick piercing for her,”_ Hunnigan can’t hide her disbelief. Maybe Leon isn’t as open as he seems to be.

Leon smiles; a half-smile that almost looks sad. “Yeah.” He doesn’t say anything else, and Hunnigan doesn’t push him. 

“This doesn’t mean we can’t be friends though,” Hunnigan stands, reaching for the phone, Leon’s cell, sitting on the coffee table. “Password,” she asks matter of factly. 

Leon rolls his eyes, taking his phone from her and unlocking it. “I can’t have you knowing all my secrets now can I?”

“I’ll crack it eventually,” Hunnigan retorts, clicking through his phone and entering her number. “There. Not many people have this. Truce?”

“I wasn’t aware we were fighting.” Leon laughs.

She’s flustered again and she hates it. Before she can reply, he grabs her hand and holds it in his. “Thank you. For all that you do.” The wind is knocked out of her. _How does he maintain eye contact so well? Any girl would be lucky to have him._ She once again finds herself wondering about his mystery woman.

He doesn’t stop there.

“You’ve saved me countless times, and well, I guess I’m happy we’ve finally broken the ice.” He smiles earnestly and she can’t help but smile back. 

“Friends?”

“Friends.”

Extra: 

“What I don’t get is why you were trying to seduce me if you don’t _like_ me.”

“I have _eyes,_ Leon. Women have needs too.”

"Fair enough."

**Author's Note:**

> Ahh! So this is my first ever fic! I hope you enjoy! I'm a huge fan of Resident Evil and hoping to create more slice of life fics! Please tell me what you think!


End file.
